THE character which this notorious offender is generally supposed to have possessed for remarkable gallantry and courage, and which in one instance has been deemed of sufficient importance to fit him for one of the heroes of a romance[7], upon being examined, appears to sink him to the low degree of a petty pilferer, of a heartless plunderer, and even of a brutal murderer.
Turpin was the son of a farmer named John Turpin, at Thackstead, in Essex; and having received a common school education, was apprenticed to a butcher in Whitechapel, in whose service he at an early age distinguished himself for the brutality of his disposition. On the expiration of his apprenticeship, he was married to a young woman named Palmer, who resided at East Ham in Essex, and set up in business for himself; but he had not been thus occupied long, before he sought to decrease his expenditure in trade by stealing his neighbours’ cattle, and cutting them up and selling them in his shop. His proceedings, however, received an unexpected check; for having stolen two oxen from a Mr. Giles at Plaistow, he drove them straight home; but two of Giles’ servants having obtained sufficient evidence of the robbery, a warrant was obtained for his apprehension, and he only evaded the officers who were in search of him, by making his escape from the back window of his house at the very moment when they were entering at the door.
Having retreated to a place of security, he found means to inform his wife where he was concealed, and she furnished him with money, with which he travelled into the hundreds of Essex, where he joined a gang of smugglers, with whom he was for some time successful. A body of the Custom-house officers, however, by one fortunate stroke, deprived him of all his ill-acquired gains. Thrown out of this kind of business, he connected himself with a gang of deer-stealers, the principal part of whose depredations were committed on Epping Forest, and the parks in its neighbourhood: but their efforts not succeeding to the expectation of the robbers, they determined to commence housebreakers. Their plan was to fix on those houses which they presumed contained any valuable property; and while one of them knocked at the door, the others rushed in, and seized whatever they might deem worthy of their notice.
The first attack of this kind was at the house of Mr. Strype, an old man who kept a chandler’s shop at Watford, whom they robbed of all the money in his possession, but did not offer him any personal violence.
The well-known story of placing the old woman on the fire at Loughton is thus related by the original historian of the life of our hero:—
“Turpin now acquainted his associates that there was an old woman at Loughton who was in possession of seven or eight hundred pounds, whereupon they agreed to rob her; and when they came to the door, one of them knocked, and the rest forcing their way into the house, tied handkerchiefs over the eyes of the old woman and her maid.
“This being done, Turpin demanded what money was in the house; and the owner hesitating to tell him, he threatened to set her on the fire if she did not make an immediate discovery. Still, however, she refused to give the desired information: on which the villains actually placed her on the fire, where she sat till the tormenting pains compelled her to discover her hidden treasure; so that the robbers possessed themselves of above four hundred pounds, and decamped with the booty.”
The gang appear to have proceeded with some success, for soon afterwards they robbed the house of a farmer at Barking of above 700l. in a most daring manner, and then they determined to attack the house of Mr. Mason, the keeper of Epping Forest. Turpin, it appears, was absent from this expedition, for he was unable to remain with so much money in his pocket as he possessed, and he therefore started to London to spend it in riot and intoxication. His companions, however, were true to their faith, and having obtained a considerable booty, they sought him in town and shared the produce of the robbery with him.
On the 11th of January, 1735, Turpin and five of his companions went to the house of Mr. Saunders, a rich farmer at Charlton, in Kent, between seven and eight in the evening, and, having knocked at the door, asked if Mr. Saunders was at home. Being answered in the affirmative, they rushed into the house, and found Mr. Saunders, with his wife and friends, playing at cards in the parlour. They told the company that they should remain uninjured if they made no disturbance, and having made prize of a silver snuff-box which lay on the table, part of the gang stood guard over the company, while the others attended Mr. Saunders through the house, and, breaking open his escrutoires and closets, stole above a hundred pounds, exclusive of plate. During these transactions the servant-maid ran up stairs, barred the door of her room, and called out “Thieves!” with a view of alarming the neighbourhood; but the robbers broke open the door, secured her, and then robbed the house of all the valuable property they had not before taken. Finding some mince-pies and some bottles of wine, they sat down to regale themselves; and meeting with a bottle of brandy, they compelled each of the company to drink a glass of it. Mrs. Saunders fainted through terror, but the gallantry of the thieves would not permit her to remain in this condition, and they therefore administered some drops in water to her, and recovered her to the use of her senses. Having staid in the house a considerable time, they packed up their booty and departed, declaring that if any of the family gave the least alarm within two hours, or advertised the marks of the stolen plate, they would return and murder them at a future time. Retiring to a public-house at Woolwich, where they had concerted the robbery, they crossed the Thames to an empty house in Ratcliffe Highway, and there deposited the stolen effects till they found a purchaser for them.
Their next attack was upon the house of Mr. Shelden, near Croydon, in Surrey, where they obtained a considerable booty in money and jewels. They then concerted the robbery of Mr. Lawrence, of Edgeware, in Middlesex, to the commission of which they proceeded on the 4th February. They arrived at Edgeware at about five in the evening, and, after obtaining some refreshment, they went to the scene of their intended outrage at about seven o’clock, when Mr. Lawrence had just discharged his workmen. Quitting their horses at the outer gate, they seized a sheep-boy, whom they compelled to conduct them to the house-door, under fear of death; and they there obliged him to procure the opening of the door by knocking and calling to his fellow-servants. As soon as the door was open, they all rushed in, and presenting pistols, they seized Mr. Lawrence and his servant, threw a cloth over their faces, and, taking the boy into another room, demanded what fire-arms were in the house? He replied that there was only an old gun, which they broke in pieces. They then bound Mr. Lawrence and his man, and made them sit by the boy; and Turpin, searching the gentleman, took from him a guinea, a Portugal piece, and some silver; but, not being satisfied with this booty, they forced him to conduct them up stairs, where they broke open a closet, and stole some money and plate. Being dissatisfied, they swore that they would murder Mr. Lawrence if some further booty was not produced, and one of them took a kettle of water from the fire, and threw it over him; but it providentially happened not to be hot enough to scald him. In the interim, the maid servant, who was churning butter in the dairy, hearing a noise in the house, apprehended some mischief, on which she blew out her candle to screen herself; but, being found in the course of their search, one of the miscreants compelled her to go up stairs, where he gratified his brutal passion by force. They then robbed the house of all the valuable effects they could find, locked the family into the parlour, threw the key into the garden, and took their ill-gotten plunder to London.
The particulars of this atrocious robbery being represented to the king a proclamation was issued, offering a reward of fifty guineas for the apprehension of the offenders, and a pardon to any one of the parties who should impeach his associates. This, however, was unsuccessful, and the robbers continued their depredations as before. On the 7th February, six of them assembled at the White Bear, in Drury Lane, and they agreed to rob Mr. Francis, a farmer, at Marylebone. They accordingly proceeded to his house forthwith, and having bound all the servants and Mr. Francis in the stable, they rushed into the house, tied Mrs. Francis, her daughter, and the maid-servant, and beat them in a most cruel manner. One of the thieves then stood sentry while the rest rifled the house, in which they found a silver tankard, a medal of Charles I., a gold watch, several gold rings, a considerable sum of money, and a variety of valuable linen and other effects, which they conveyed to London.
Hereupon a reward of one hundred pounds was offered for the apprehension of the offenders; in consequence of which two of them were taken into custody, tried, convicted on the evidence of an accomplice, and hanged in chains: and the whole gang being dispersed, Turpin went into the country to renew his depredations on the public, in any new line of business which might strike his fancy. On his way towards Cambridge he fell in with a young man of gentlemanly appearance, who was well mounted, and expecting a tolerable booty, he presented a pistol to his breast and demanded his money. The only answer which he received, however, was a hearty peal of laughter; and when the highwayman, enraged at the supposed insult cast upon him, threatened instant destruction to the stranger in case of any further refusal, the latter exclaimed—“What! dog eat dog?—Come, come, brother Turpin, if you don’t know me, I know you, and shall be glad of your company.” The mystery was soon solved; the stranger was no other than King, the gentleman highwayman, and a bargain of partnership was struck between them, which terminated only with the death of our hero’s new associate, by the hand of his companion in iniquity. Joined now in a common cause against the public, they committed a great number of robberies, until at length they were so well known that no public-house would receive them as guests. Thus situated, they fixed on a spot between the King’s Oak and the Loughton road, on Epping Forest, where they made a cave which was large enough to receive them and their horses. The cave was enclosed within a sort of thicket of bushes and brambles, through which they could look and see passengers on the road, while they remained unobserved; and from this station they used to issue, and robbed such a number of persons, that at length the very pedlars who travelled the road carried fire-arms for their defence. While thus situated, they were frequently visited by Turpin’s wife, who used to supply them with necessaries, and who often remained with her husband in the cave, during King’s absence, for the night.
Having taken a ride as far as Bungay, in Suffolk, the robbers observed two young countrywomen receive fourteen pounds for corn, on which Turpin resolved to rob them of the money. King objected, saying it was a pity to rob such pretty girls: but Turpin was obstinate, and obtained the booty. Upon their return home on the following day, they stopped a Mr. Bradle, of London, who was riding in his chariot with his children. The gentleman, seeing only one robber, was preparing to make resistance,
Turpin and King. What! Dog eat Dog!
Turpin and King.
What! Dog eat Dog!
when King called to Turpin to hold the horses, and they took from him his watch, money, and an old mourning-ring; but returned the latter, as he declared that its intrinsic value was trifling, and that he was very unwilling to part with it. Finding that they readily parted with the ring, he asked them what he must give for the watch: on which King said to Turpin, “What say you, Jack (by which name he always called him), he seems to be a good honest fellow; shall we let him have the watch?” Turpin answered, “Do as you please.” Whereupon King said, “You must pay six guineas for it. We never sell for more, though the watch should be worth six-and-thirty.” The gentleman therefore received the watch, and said that the money should be left at the Dial, in Birchin-lane, where they might receive it.
The greatest crime of which Turpin appears to have been guilty was committed soon after this—it was that of murder. The active inquiries which the police of the day were making after him and his companion, obliged them to separate; but Turpin, being less wary than King, continued to inhabit their old dwelling in the forest. The tempting offer of 100l. reward induced the servant of a gentleman, named Thompson, and a higgler, to go out in the hope of capturing the highwayman; and Turpin, being unaware of their object, and seeing them approach his cave with a gun, mistook them for poachers. He called to them, telling them that there were no hares in that thicket, upon which the servant exclaimed, “No, but I have found a Turpin,” and instantly presenting his gun, he called upon him to surrender. Turpin spoke to him in a friendly way, but retreating from him at the same time, he seized his own gun, and shot him dead on the spot, the higgler running off with the greatest precipitation. The consequence of this most detestable act was, that a great outcry was raised against the highwayman, and he was compelled to quit the place on which he had hitherto relied for his concealment. It was afterwards examined, and there were found in it two shirts, two pairs of stockings, a piece of ham, and part of a bottle of wine. His place of refuge was in Hertfordshire; and he sent a letter to his wife to meet him at a public-house in the town of Hertford, but going to keep his appointment he met a butcher, to whom he owed a sum of money. The latter demanded payment, and Dick promised to get the money of his wife, who was in the next room; but while the butcher was hinting to some of his acquaintance that the person present was Turpin, and that they might take him into custody after he had received his debt, the highwayman made his escape through a window, and rode off with great expedition.
He soon found King; but their meeting was unfortunate for the latter, for it ended in his death. Proceeding together towards London in the dusk of the evening, when they came near the Green Man on Epping Forest, they overtook a Mr. Major, who being mounted on a very fine horse, while Turpin’s beast was jaded, the latter obliged him to dismount, and exchange. The robbers now pursued their journey towards London; and Mr. Major, going to the Green Man, gave an account of the affair; on which it was conjectured that Turpin had been the robber. It was on a Saturday evening that this robbery was committed; but Mr. Major being advised to print hand-bills immediately, notice was given to the landlord of the Green Man, that such a horse as had been lost had been left at the Red Lion in Whitechapel. The landlord going thither, determined to wait till some person came for it; and at about eleven at night, King’s brother came to pay for the horse, and take him away, on which he was immediately seized, and conducted into the house. Being asked what right he had to the horse, he said he had bought it; but the landlord, examining a whip which he had in his hand, found a button at the end of the handle half broken off, and the name of Major on the remaining half. Upon this he was given into the custody of a constable; but as it was not supposed that he was the actual robber, he was told that he should have his liberty if he would discover his employer. Hereupon he said that a stout man, in a white duffil coat, was waiting for the horse in Red Lion-street; on which the company going thither, saw King, who drew a pistol, and attempted to fire it, but it flashed in the pan: he then endeavoured to pull out another pistol, but he could not, as it got entangled in his pocket. Turpin was at this time watching at a short distance off, and riding towards the spot, he saw his companion seized by some officers who had arrived. King immediately cried out “Shoot him, or we are taken;” on which Turpin fired, but his shot penetrated the breast of his companion. King called out, “Dick, you have killed me!” and Turpin then rode off at full speed.
King lived a week after this affair, and gave information that Turpin might be found at a house near Hackney Marsh; and, on inquiry, it was discovered that Turpin had been there on the night that he rode off, lamenting that he had killed King, who was his most faithful associate.
For a considerable time our hero skulked about the forest, having been deprived of his retreat in the cave since he shot the servant of Mr. Thompson; and a more active search for him having commenced, he determined to make good his retreat into Yorkshire, where he thought that he would be unknown, and might the more readily evade justice. The circumstance which induced him to take this step, appears to have been an attempt made by a gentleman’s huntsman, to secure him by hunting him down with blood-hounds, whose mouths he escaped only by mounting an oak, when he had the satisfaction to see them pass by without noticing him.
Going first, therefore, to Long Sutton, in Lincolnshire, he stole some horses, for which he was taken into custody; but he escaped from the constable as he was conducting him before a magistrate, and hastened to Welton, in Yorkshire, where he went by the name of John Palmer, and assumed the character of a gentleman.
He now frequently went into Lincolnshire, where he stole horses, which he brought into Yorkshire, and there he sold or exchanged them. From his being apparently a dealer in horses, he became acquainted with many of the surrounding gentry and farmers; and he frequently accompanied them on hunting and shooting expeditions. On one of these occasions he was returning home, when he wantonly shot a cock belonging to his landlord. Mr. Hall, a neighbour who witnessed the act, said, “You have done wrong in shooting your landlord’s cock,” on which Turpin answered, that if he would stay while he loaded his gun he would shoot him too. Irritated by the insult, Mr. Hall communicated what had occurred to the owner of the cock, whereupon complaint being made to the magistrates, a warrant was granted for the apprehension of the offender; and on his being taken into custody, he was examined before the magistrates at Beverley and committed for want of sureties. Inquiries being made, the good opinions which had been formed of his mode of life were soon dissipated; and it was conjectured, that instead of being a horse-dealer, he was a horse-stealer. The magistrates, therefore, proceeded to him, and demanded to know what his business was; and he answered, that about two years before, he had carried on business at Long Sutton as a butcher, but that having contracted some debts for sheep that proved rotten, he had been compelled to abscond, and to go into Yorkshire to live. The clerk of the peace being commissioned to ascertain the truth of this story, learned that he had never been in business, and that he was suspected to be a horse-stealer, and had been in custody but had escaped, and that there were many informations against him for various offences. He was then committed to York Castle; and soon afterwards some persons coming from Lincolnshire, claimed a mare and a foal, which were in his possession, and stated that they had been stolen recently before.
The real name and character of the prisoner were soon afterwards discovered by means of a letter, which he wrote to his brother in Essex. The letter was as follows:—
“York, February 6, 1739.
“Dear Brother,—I am sorry to inform you that I am now under confinement in York Castle for horse-stealing. If I could procure an evidence from London to give me a character, that would go a great way towards my being acquitted. I had not been long in this county before my apprehension, so it would pass off the readier. For Heaven’s sake, dear brother, do not neglect me; you well know what I mean when I say I am yours,
“John Palmer.”
The letter was returned to the Post Office unopened, because the postage was not paid; and Mr. Smith, the schoolmaster, by whom Turpin had been taught to write, knowing the hand, carried the letter to a magistrate, by whom it was broken open, and it was thus discovered that the supposed John Palmer was Dick Turpin. Mr. Smith was in consequence despatched to Yorkshire, and he immediately selected his former pupil from the other prisoners, and subsequently gave evidence at the trial as to his identity.
On the rumour that the noted Turpin was a prisoner in York Castle, persons flocked from all parts of the country to take a view of him, and debates ran high whether he was the real person or not. Among others who visited him was a young fellow who pretended to know the famous Turpin; and having regarded him a considerable time with looks of great attention, he told the keeper he would bet him half a guinea that he was not Turpin; on which the prisoner, whispering the keeper, said “Lay him the wager, and I’ll go your halves.”
When this notorious malefactor was brought to trial, he was convicted on two indictments, and received sentence of death. After conviction he wrote to his father, imploring him to intercede with a gentleman and lady of rank, to make interest that his sentence might be remitted, and that he might be transported; but although the father did what was in his power, the notoriety of his son’s character was such, that no persons would exert themselves in his favour.
The prisoner meanwhile lived in the most gay and thoughtless manner, regardless of all considerations of futurity, and affecting to make a jest of the dreadful fate that awaited him.
Not many days before his execution, he bought a new fustian frock and a pair of pumps, in order to wear them at the time of his death; and on the day before that appointed for the termination of his life, he hired five poor men, at five shillings each, to follow the cart as mourners. He gave hatbands and gloves to several persons, and left a ring and other articles of property to a married woman, with whom he had been acquainted in Lincolnshire.
On the morning of his death he was put into a cart, and being followed by his mourners, he was drawn to the place of execution; in his way to which he bowed to the spectators with an air of the most astonishing indifference and intrepidity.
When he came to the fatal tree he ascended the ladder; and, on his right leg trembling, he stamped it down with an air of assumed courage, as if he was ashamed to be observed to discover any signs of fear. Having conversed with the executioner about half an hour, he threw himself off the ladder, and expired in a few minutes. Turpin suffered at York, April 10, 1739.
The spectators of the execution seemed to be much affected at the fate of this man, who was distinguished by the comeliness of his appearance. The corpse was brought to the Blue Boar, in Castle-gate, York, where it remained till the next morning, when it was interred in the church-yard of St. George’s parish, with an inscription on the coffin bearing the initials of his name, and his age. The grave was made remarkably deep, and the people who acted as mourners took such measures as they thought would secure the body; but about three o’clock on the following morning some persons were observed in the church-yard, who carried it off; and the populace, having an intimation whither it was conveyed, found it in a garden belonging to one of the surgeons of the city.
Hereupon they took the body, laid it on a board, and, having carried it through the streets in a kind of triumphal manner, and then filled the coffin with unslacked lime, buried it in the grave where it had been before deposited.—It is difficult to conceive the reason of all this concern and sympathy among the people; for a more depraved, heartless villain never suffered the penalty of the law. The fashion, however, which was then set appears to have continued in existence up to the present day; and fancy has done more to secure the reputation of Turpin as a hero, and a man of courage and generosity, than any pains he ever took to obtain for himself a good name as an honest man. It is needless to add, that the story of the ride to York, and of the wondrous deeds of the highwayman’s steed, “Black Bess,” are, like many other tales of this fellow, the fabrications of some poetical brain.
THE name of this woman will long be celebrated in the annals of crime, as being that of a person who was the most ingenious of her class.
Mary Young was the daughter of poor parents in the north of Ireland; and at the age of ten years entered the service of a gentlewoman, by whose directions she was instructed in reading, writing, and needle-work, in the latter of which she attained a proficiency unusual in girls of her age. Soon after she arrived at her fifteenth year, a young man, who lived in the vicinity, made strong pretensions of love to her, and having formed a desire to visit London, she determined to quit her benefactress, and make the passion of her lover, for whom she cared little, subservient to her purpose. She therefore promised to marry him on condition of his taking her to London, and he joyfully accepted her proposal, and immediately took a passage to Liverpool. In order, however, to enable him to undertake the journey, he robbed his master of a gold watch and 80 guineas, and then he joined his intended wife on board the ship. Arrived at Liverpool, they determined to remain a short time to get over the effects of the voyage, and they lived together as man and wife; but when they were on the point of starting to London by the waggon, the bridegroom was seized by a messenger despatched in search of him from Ireland and conveyed before the mayor, whither his companion accompanied him. He there confessed the crime of which he had been guilty, but did not implicate Young, and she, in consequence, was permitted to take her departure for London, having 10 guineas in her pocket, which she had recently received from her paramour. In a short time the latter was sent to Ireland, where he was tried, and condemned to suffer death; but his sentence was eventually changed to that of transportation.
Upon her arrival in London, our heroine contracted an acquaintance with one of her countrywomen, named Ann Murphy, by whom she was invited to partake of a lodging in Long Acre. She endeavoured for a while to obtain a livelihood by her needle; but, not being able to procure sufficient employment, her situation became truly deplorable. Murphy then intimated to her that she could introduce her to a mode of life that would prove exceedingly lucrative, adding, that the most profound secrecy was required; and the other, expressing an anxious desire to learn the means of extricating herself from the difficulties under which she laboured, made a solemn declaration that she would never divulge what Murphy should communicate. In the evening, Murphy introduced her to a number of men and women, assembled in a kind of club, near St. Giles’s, who gained their living by cutting off women’s pockets, and stealing watches, &c. from men, in the avenues of the theatres, and at other places of public resort; and, on the recommendation of Murphy, they admitted Mary a member of the society. After her installation they dispersed, in order to pursue their illegal occupation; and the booty obtained that night consisted of eighty pounds in cash and a valuable gold watch. As Mary was not yet acquainted with the art of thieving, she was not admitted to an equal share of the night’s produce; but it was agreed that she should have two guineas. She now regularly applied two hours every day in qualifying herself for an expert thief, by attending to the instructions of experienced practitioners; and, in a short time, she was distinguished as the most ingenious and successful adventurer of the whole gang. A young fellow of genteel appearance, who was a member of the club, was singled out by her as the partner of her bed; and they cohabited for a considerable time as husband and wife.
In a few months our heroine became so expert in her profession as to acquire great consequence among her associates, who distinguished her by the appellation of Jenny Diver, on account of her remarkable dexterity; and as that is the name by which she is more generally recognised in the anecdotes of her life which follow, we shall so designate her.
Accompanied by one of her female accomplices, Jenny joined the crowd at the entrance of a place of worship in the Old Jewry, where a popular divine was to preach, and observing a young gentleman with a diamond ring on his finger she held out her hand, which he kindly received in order to assist her. At this juncture she contrived to get possession of the ring without the knowledge of the owner, after which she slipped behind her companion, and heard the gentleman say, that, as there was no probability of gaining admittance, he would return. Upon his leaving the meeting he missed his ring, and mentioned his loss to the persons who were near him, adding that he suspected it to be stolen by a woman whom he had endeavoured to assist in the crowd; but as the thief was unknown she escaped. This proof of her dexterity was considered so remarkable that her associates determined to allow her an equal share of all their booties, even though she should not be present when they were obtained. In a short time after this exploit she procured a pair of false hands and arms to be made, and concealing her real ones under her clothes, she put something beneath her stays so as to make herself appear as if in a state of pregnancy, and repaired on a Sunday evening to the place of worship above-mentioned in a sedan chair, one of the gang going before to procure a seat for her among the genteeler part of the congregation, and another attending in the character of a footman. Jenny being seated between two elderly ladies, each of whom had a gold watch by her side, she conducted herself with great seeming devotion; but, the service being nearly concluded, she seized the opportunity, when the ladies were standing up, of stealing their watches, which she delivered to an accomplice in an adjoining pew. The devotions being ended, the congregation were preparing to depart, when the ladies discovered their loss, and a violent clamour ensued. One of the parties exclaimed “That her watch must have been taken either by the devil or the pregnant woman!” on which the other said, “She could vindicate the pregnant lady, whose hands she was sure had not been removed from her lap during the whole time of her being in the pew.”
Flushed with the success of the adventure, our heroine determined to pursue her good fortune; and as another sermon was to be preached the same evening, she adjourned to an adjacent public-house, where, without either pain or difficulty, she soon reduced the protuberance of her waist, and having entirely changed her dress, she returned to the meeting, where she had not remained long before she picked a gentleman’s pocket of a gold watch, with which she escaped unsuspected. Her accomplices also were industrious and successful; for, on a division of the booty obtained this evening, they each received thirty guineas. These acts procured for her universal respect among her fellows, and in all their future transactions they yielded an exact obedience to her wishes.
The game which she had played having been found so successful, Jenny again assumed the appearance of a pregnant woman, and, attended by an accomplice as a footman, went towards St. James’s Park on a day when the king was going to the House of Lords; and, there being a great number of persons between the Park and Spring Gardens, she purposely slipped down, and was instantly surrounded by many of both sexes, who were emulous to afford her assistance; but, affecting to be in violent pain, she intimated to them that she was desirous of remaining on the ground till she should be somewhat recovered. As she expected, the crowd increased, and her pretended footman, and a female accomplice, were so industrious as to obtain two diamond girdle-buckles, a gold watch, a gold snuff-box, and two purses, containing together upwards of forty guineas. The girdle-buckles, watch, and snuff-box, were the following day advertised, a considerable reward was offered, and a promise given that no questions should be asked of the party who should return them; but our heroine declaring that their restoration would entirely break down the principles upon which their association was conducted, they were sold to the Jews in Duke’s-place.
Ever fertile in inventions, she proceeded with her supposed servant to the east-end of the town, and observing a genteel house, the latter knocked and begged that his mistress, who had been taken suddenly ill, might be permitted to enter to rest herself a few minutes. The request was complied with; and while the mistress of the house and the servant were up stairs seeking such things as might be supposed to afford relief to their visitor, she opened a drawer and stole sixty guineas; and afterwards, while the lady was holding a smelling-bottle to her nose, she picked her pocket of a purse, containing, however, only a small sum. Her supposed servant, in the mean while, was not idle, and having been ordered into the kitchen, he pocketed six silver table-spoons, a pepper-box, and a salt-cellar. All the available booty having now been secured, the servant was sent for a coach, and Jenny, pretending to be somewhat recovered, went away, saying that she was the wife of a respectable merchant in Thames-street, and pressing her entertainer to dine with her on a certain day, which she appointed. The impudence of these frauds, however, soon attracted public attention, and it was found that some new plan must be determined upon, by which the public might be gulled.
Until some novel method of robbing should be devised, however, it was determined that the gang should go to Bristol, to seek adventures and profit during the fair; and in order to render their proceedings the more likely to be successful, they admitted into their society a man who had long subsisted there as a thief. Jenny and Murphy now assumed the character of merchants’ wives, while the new member and another of the gang appeared as country farmers, and the footman was continued in the same character. They took lodgings in different parts of the city; and they agreed, that in case of any of them being apprehended, the rest should appear to speak to the character of the prisoners, and representing them to be persons of reputation in London, endeavour to procure their release.
Being one day in the fair, they observed a west-country clothier giving a sum of money to his servant, and heard him direct the man to deposit it in a bureau. They followed the servant, and one of them fell down before him, expecting that he would also fall, and that, as there was a great crowd, the money might be easily secured; but though the man fell into the snare, they were not able to obtain their expected booty, and therefore had recourse to the following stratagem:—One of the gang asked the man whether his master had not lately ordered him to carry home a sum of money; to which the other replied in the affirmative; and the sharper then told him that he must return to his master, who had purchased some goods, and waited to pay for them. The countryman followed him to Jenny’s lodgings, and, being introduced to her, she desired him to be seated, saying his master was gone on some business in the neighbourhood, but had left orders for him to wait till his return. She urged him to drink a glass of wine, but the poor fellow declined her offers with awkward simplicity, the pretended footman having taught him to believe her a woman of great wealth and consequence. Her encouraging solicitations, however, conquered his bashfulness, and he drank till he became intoxicated. Being conducted into another apartment, he soon fell fast asleep, and, while in that situation, he was robbed of the money he had received from his master, which proved to be a hundred pounds. They were no sooner in possession of the cash, than they discharged the demand of the inn-keeper, and set out in the first stage for London.
Soon after their return to town Jenny and her associates went to London Bridge in the dusk of the evening, and, observing a lady standing at a door to avoid the carriages, a number of which were passing, one of the men went up to her, and, under pretence of giving her assistance, seized both her hands, which he held till his accomplices had rifled her pockets of a gold snuff-box, a silver case containing a set of instruments, and thirty guineas in cash.
On the following day, as Jenny, and an accomplice, in the character of a footman, were walking through Change Alley, she picked a gentleman’s pocket of a bank-note for two hundred pounds, for which she received one hundred and thirty from a Jew, with whom the gang had very extensive connexions.
Our heroine now hired a real footman; and her favourite, who had long acted in that character, assumed the appearance of a gentleman; and they hired lodgings in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, that they might more conveniently attend the theatres. She dressed herself in an elegant manner, and went to the theatre one evening when the king was to be present; and, during the performance, she attracted the particular attention of a young gentleman of fortune from Yorkshire, who declared, in the most passionate terms, that she had made an absolute conquest, and earnestly solicited that he might be permitted to attend her home. She at first refused to comply with his request, saying that she was newly married, but she at length yielded to his entreaties, and he accompanied her to her door in a hackney-coach, and quitted her only on her promising to admit him on a future evening, when, she said, her husband would be out of town. The day of appointment being arrived, two of the gang were equipped in elegant liveries; and Anne Murphy appeared as waiting-maid. The gentleman soon made his appearance, having a gold-headed cane in his hand, a sword by his side with a gold hilt, and wearing a gold watch and a diamond ring. Being introduced to the bed-chamber, he was soon deprived of his ring; and he had not undressed many minutes before the lady’s-maid knocked violently at the door, exclaiming that her master was suddenly returned. Jenny affected to be labouring under the most violent agitation, and begged that the gentleman would cover himself with the bed-clothes, saying that she would convey his apparel into the other room, so that, if her husband came there, nothing would appear to awaken his suspicion; and adding that, under pretence of indisposition, she would prevail upon her husband to sleep in another bed, and then return to the arms of her lover. The gull acquiesced, and the clothes being removed, a short consultation was held among the thieves, the result of which was that they immediately decamped, carrying their booty with them, which, exclusive of the cane &c., was worth a hundred guineas.
The amorous youth meanwhile waited with anxious impatience for the coming of his Dulcinea; but morning having arrived, he rang the bell, and the people of the house coming to him, found that he was locked in, the fair fugitive having carried off the key with her. The door was, however, burst open, and an éclaircissement ensued, when the gentleman explained the manner in which he had been treated; but the people of the house, deaf to his expostulations, threatened to publish the adventure through the town, unless he would make up the loss which they had sustained. Rather than risk the safety of his reputation, he sent for money and some clothes and discharged the debt which Jenny had contracted, quitting the house, bitterly repenting that his amorous qualities should have led him into such a scrape.
The continuance of the system under which this gang pursued its labours became now impossible, and they found it necessary to leave the metropolis; but having committed numerous depredations in the country, they returned, and Jenny was unfortunately apprehended on a charge of picking a gentleman’s pocket, for which she was sentenced to be transported.
She remained nearly four months in Newgate, during which time she employed a considerable sum in the purchase of stolen effects; and when she went on board the transport vessel, she shipped a quantity of goods nearly sufficient to load a waggon. The property she possessed ensured her great respect, and every possible convenience and accommodation during the voyage; and on her arrival in Virginia, she disposed of her goods, and for some time lived in great splendour and elegance. She soon found, however, that America was a country where she could expect but little emolument from the practices she had so successfully followed in England, and she therefore employed every art she was mistress of to ingratiate herself with a young gentleman, who was preparing to embark on board a vessel bound for the port of London. He became much enamoured of her, and brought her to England; but while the ship lay at Gravesend, she robbed him of all the property she could get into her possession, and pretending indisposition, intimated a desire of going on shore, in which her admirer acquiesced; but she was no sooner on land than she made a precipitate retreat.
She now travelled through various parts of the country; and having by her usual wicked practices obtained many considerable sums, she at length returned to London, but was not able to find her former accomplices. She frequented the Royal Exchange, the theatres, London-bridge, and other places of public resort, and committed innumerable depredations on the public; but being again detected in picking a gentleman’s pocket on London-bridge, she was taken before a magistrate, to whom she declared that her name was Jane Webb, and by that appellation she was committed to Newgate.
On her trial, a gentleman who had detected her in the very act of picking the prosecutor’s pocket, deposed that a person had applied to him, offering fifty pounds, on condition that he should not appear in support of the prosecution: and a lady swore that on the day the prisoner committed the offence for which she stood indicted, she saw her pick the pockets of more than twenty different people. The record of her former conviction was not produced in court, and therefore she was arraigned for privately stealing only, and, on the clearest evidence, the jury pronounced her guilty. The property being valued at less than one shilling, she was sentenced to transportation.
Twelve months had not elapsed before she returned from exile a second time; and on her arrival in London, she renewed her former practices. A lady going from Sherborne-lane to Walbrook was accosted by a man, who took her hand, seemingly as if to assist her in crossing some planks which were placed over the gutter for the convenience of passengers; but he squeezed her fingers with so much force as to give her great pain, and in the mean time Jenny picked her pocket of thirteen shillings and a penny. The gentlewoman, conscious of being robbed, seized the thief by the gown, and she was immediately conducted to the Compter. She was examined the next day by the lord mayor, who committed her to Newgate for trial.
At the ensuing sessions at the Old Bailey, she was tried on an indictment charging her with privately stealing; and a verdict of guilty having been brought in, she was sentenced to death.
After conviction she appeared to have a due sense of the awful situation in which she was placed; and employing a great part of her time in devotion, she repented sincerely of the course of iniquity in which she had so long persisted. On the day preceding that of her execution, she sent for the woman who nursed her child, which was then about three years old, and saying that there was a person who would pay for its maintenance, she earnestly entreated that it might be carefully instructed in the duties of religion. On the following morning she appeared to be in a serene state of mind. The preparations in the press-yard for a moment shook her fortitude, but her spirits were soon again tolerably composed. She was conveyed to Tyburn in a mourning-coach, being attended by a clergyman, to whom she declared her firm belief in the principles of the Protestant Church. Her remains were, at her own desire, buried in St. Pancras churchyard.
Her execution took place on the 18th March, 1740.
THE only circumstance of peculiarity attending this case, and it is one indeed, we are happy to say, not a little singular, is that the malefactor was the son of the man whom he murdered. The father being possessed of good property at Long Melford in Suffolk, discarded his son, who appears to have been brought up without any education being imparted to him, on account of his connexion with a woman named Elizabeth Boyer. The latter, angered at the contempt exhibited for her, urged her paramour, as well for revenge as for the accession to their means, which would be produced by the old man’s death, to commit the foul deed which cost him his life. He was apprehended at the instance of a relation, a Mr. Timothy Drew, and being convicted, was executed on the 9th April, 1740, at St. Edmund’s Bury, being in the twenty-fifth year of his age.
This case so nearly resembles the celebrated story of George Barnwell, that the following anecdote in reference to the tragedy of that name will not be misplaced here. It is related in reference to Mr. Ross, formerly a tragedian of considerable celebrity.
“A gentleman, much dejected in his looks, called one day on Ross, when stricken with years, and told him that his father, a wealthy citizen in London, lay at the point of death, and begged that he might see him, or he could not die in peace of mind. Curious as this request appeared from a stranger, and in such extremity, the actor hesitated; but being much pressed by his visitor, he agreed to accompany him. Arrived at the house of the sick man, Mr. Ross was announced, and soon admitted into his chamber; but observing the family to retire, and being left alone with the patient, his wonder was again aroused. The dying penitent, now three score years and ten, casting his languid eyes upon Ross, said, ‘Can it be you who raised my fortune—who saved my life? Then were you young like myself; ay, and amiable amid the direst misfortunes. I determined to amend my life, and avoid your fate.’ Here nature in a struggle with death became overpowered, and as the sick man’s head fell upon his pillow, he faintly ejaculated, ‘O Barnwell! Barnwell!’ We may conceive the astonishment of the player, whom age had long incapacitated from representing the unfortunate ‘London Apprentice.’ The feeble man, renewing his efforts to gratify a dying desire, again opened his eyes and continued: ‘Mr. Ross, some forty years ago, like George Barnwell, I wronged my master to supply the unbounded extravagance of a Millwood. I took her to see your performance, which so shocked me that I silently vowed to break the connexion then by my side, and return to the path of virtue. I kept my resolution, and replaced the money I had stolen before my villany was detected. I bore up against the upbraidings of my deluder, and found a Maria in my master’s daughter. We married. I soon succeeded to her father’s business, and the young man who brought you here was the first pledge of our love. I have more children, or I would have shown my gratitude to you by a larger sum than I have bequeathed you; but take a thousand pounds affixed to your name.’ At the dying man’s signal, old Ross left the room overwhelmed by his feelings.”
THIS atrocious murder was committed through the instrumentality of Captain Samuel Goodere, upon his brother Sir John Dineley Goodere, on board a man of war, of which the former was Captain.
Sir John, it appears, was possessed of an estate of 3000l. per annum, situated at Evesham, in Worcestershire, which he derived from his father, Sir Edward: and his brother, who is the subject of this sketch, having been bred to the sea, was advanced to the rank of Captain of one of his Majesty’s vessels of war. Sir John having no children, very sanguine expectations were entertained by his brother that he should inherit his property, but upon his discovering that he had made a will in favour of their sister’s children, his rage knew no bounds, and he determined upon a most diabolical revenge for the supposed injury which he had received. The vessel of which Captain Goodere had the command, it appears, was employed as one of the Channel cruisers, and in the month of January, 1741, it was lying at Bristol. At this period it happened that Sir John Goodere was in that city, transacting some business with Mr. Smith, an attorney; and his brother having been made acquainted with the circumstance, fixed upon this as a proper time to put his plan into execution. Throwing himself into Mr. Smith’s way, he assured him that a perfect reconciliation had taken place between them, notwithstanding a misunderstanding which was known to have existed; and after some conversation, learning that his brother was going to dine with that gentleman on a certain day, he procured himself to be invited to meet him. Having determined upon this as a favourable opportunity to carry his design into execution, on his going ashore he carried with him some of his seamen, to whom he gave instructions that Sir John being insane, he desired to procure him to be carried on board his ship, in order that he might be conveyed to a place of safety. The men therefore, having been regaled during the evening at a neighbouring public-house, as night approached placed themselves in readiness to obey the orders which they had received; and Sir John making his appearance, they seized him and forcibly put him into a boat, in which they directly rowed him to the vessel. The protestations made by the captain, that it was only a deserter whom they were apprehending, silenced all inquiry from the crowd which had assembled on their perceiving this outrage, and the unfortunate baronet was secured without an effort being made to procure his release, or to save him from the bloody fate which awaited him.
As soon as the devoted victim was in the boat, he said to his brother, “I know you have an intention to murder me; and if you are ready to do it, let me beg that it may be done here, without giving yourself the trouble to take me on board;” to which the captain said, “No, brother, I am going to prevent your rotting on land; but, however, I would have you make your peace with God this night.”
Sir John having reached the vessel, he called to the seamen for help, but they having learned their captain’s commands from their fellows, did not offer to render the slightest aid, and the wretched gentleman was immediately conveyed to the purser’s cabin.
White and Mahony were selected by their captain as the performers in the dreadful scene which was now to be enacted. While Goodere stood at the entrance of the cabin guarding it with a drawn sword, his two assistants entered it, and approached their victim. He cried aloud for mercy, offering all he possessed as a return, if they would spare his life; but, regardless of his prayers, they deliberately proceeded to the completion of their sanguinary intentions. Seizing him by the shoulders, they threw him on the deck, and there, with a handkerchief which they took from his pocket, they attempted to strangle him. Finding that their efforts were unavailing, they procured a cord from their guilty commander, with which they speedily despatched him; White kneeling on his breast and holding his hands, while Mahony fixed the cord round his throat, and tightened it until strangulation had taken place. They then accompanied their captain to his cabin, who gave them the sum agreed upon for their services, and bid them seek their safety in flight. The murder was soon made known on shore, through the instrumentality of the crew of the vessel; and the circumstance having come to the knowledge of Mr. Smith, the attorney, he procured a warrant to be issued, upon which the officers of the city proceeded on board the ship. They found that the captain had there been already put under arrest by the lieutenant and sailing-master, and he was immediately conveyed in custody to the prison of the town. It was not long before Mahony and White were also secured; and the prisoners being brought to trial at Bristol, on the 26th March, 1741, they were convicted on the clearest evidence, and sentenced to death.
Captain Goodere’s time, after conviction, was spent chiefly in writing letters to persons of rank, to make interest to save his life; and his wife and daughter presented a petition to the king: but all endeavours of this kind proving ineffectual, he employed a man to hire some colliers to rescue him on his way to the fatal tree.
His efforts in this respect, however, were as unavailing as those which he had made to procure a mitigation of his punishment; for the circumstance having been made known to the sheriff, he took such steps as were deemed expedient and necessary to prevent the success of the project. The wretched companions in guilt of the captain exhibited the greatest hardihood; and when the jailers were employed in putting on their irons, they declared that they had no fear of death.
Captain Goodere’s wife and daughter, dressed in deep mourning, took a solemn leave of him on the day before his death; and he went in a mourning-coach to the place of execution, to which his accomplices were conveyed in a cart.
They were hanged near the Hot Wells, Bristol, on the 20th of April, 1741, within view of the place where the ship lay when the murder was committed.
OLIVER BODKIN, ESQ. was a gentleman who possessed a good estate near Tuam, in Ireland. He had two sons by two wives. The elder son, named John, to whom this narrative chiefly relates, was sent to Dublin to study the law; and the younger, who was about seven years of age, remained at home with his parents. The young student lived in a very dissipated manner at Dublin, and soon quitting his studies, came and resided near his father’s place of abode. The father allowed him a certain annual sum for his support; but, as he lived beyond his allowance, he demanded farther assistance. The father, however, refusing to accede to his wishes, he determined upon a horrible revenge, and included his mother-in-law in his proposed scheme of vengeance, as he imagined that she had induced his father to refuse him any further aid.
Having engaged his cousin, Dominick Bodkin, his father’s shepherd, John Hogan, and another ruffian of the name of Burke, to assist him in the intended murders, they went to the house of Mr. Bodkin, senior; whose household consisted of four men and three women servants, exclusive of Mrs. Bodkin and the younger son, and a gentleman named Lynch, who was at that time on a visit there. They found all the members of the family at supper on their arrival, and having murdered them, they went into the kitchen, where they killed three servant-maids; and, finding the men in different parts of the house, they also sacrificed them to their brutal and unprovoked rage. The murder of eleven persons being thus perpetrated, they quitted the fatal spot; and, when some persons from Tuam came the next morning to speak with Mr. Bodkin on business, they found the house open, and beheld the dead body of Mr. Lynch, near which lay that of Mrs. Bodkin, hacked and mangled in a shocking manner; and, at a small distance, her husband, with his throat cut, and the child lying dead across his breast. The throats of the maid-servants in the kitchen were all cut; and the men-servants in another room were also found murdered. The assassins had even been so wanton in their cruelties as to kill all the dogs and cats in the house. The neighbours being alarmed by such a singular instance of barbarity, a suspicion fell on John Bodkin; who, being taken into custody, confessed all the tragical circumstances above-mentioned, and impeached his accomplices: on which the other offenders were taken into custody, and all of them were committed to the jail of Tuam.
The shepherd then confessed that he had murdered two; but that thinking to preserve the boy, to whom he had been foster-father, he besmeared him with blood, and laid him near his father. Dominick, perceiving him alive, killed him; and he afterwards murdered five more. John Bodkin owned that he and Burke killed the remainder; that he had formerly attempted to poison his mother-in-law; and that he was concerned with his first-cousins, John Bodkin, then living, and Frank Bodkin, then lately dead, in strangling Dominick Bodkin, their brother, heir of the late Counsellor John Bodkin, of Carobegg, to an estate of nine hundred pounds a year.
When they were brought to trial, John Bodkin, (the parricide), Dominick Bodkin, and John Hogan, pleaded guilty; and they were all condemned, and executed at Tuam on the 26th of March, 1742. The head of the shepherd was fixed on Tuam market-house, and the bodies of the others gibbeted within sight of the house where the murders had been committed.
Upon the confession of John, the cousin of the same name was apprehended for the murder of his elder brother, Dominick Bodkin, and accused of sitting on his mouth and breast until he was suffocated. He was taken in a moss, or turf bog, near Tuam, covered over with straw, and disguised in an old hat and peasant’s clothes, for which he had given his own laced coat and hat. Being examined before Lord Athenry, he said that he had fled for fear of being loaded with irons in a jail, and denied having any hand in his brother Dominick’s death, affirming that he had died of a surfeit, as had been reported. He was present at the execution of his relations, but confessed nothing; and thus (there being no positive proof against him) he escaped justice.
A case in which more cold-blooded cruelty has been displayed than in this, has seldom fallen under our notice. The murder of an indulgent parent must be insufferably shocking to every humane mind: but when we consider, as in the present instance, what a variety of unprovoked murders were added to the first, the mind is lost in astonishment at the baseness, the barbarity, the worse than savage degeneracy of those beings who could perpetrate such horrid deeds.
Jonathan Bradford discovered at the bedside of M. Hayes.
Jonathan Bradford discovered at the bedside of M.
Hayes.
THE details of this case reach us in a very abridged form; and we have been unable to collect any information on which any reliance can be placed beyond that which is afforded us by the ordinary channels. It would appear that Jonathan Bradford kept an inn in the city of Oxford. A gentleman, (Mr. Hayes), attended by a man-servant, put up one evening at Bradford’s house; and in the night, the former being found murdered in his bed, the landlord was apprehended on suspicion of having committed the barbarous and inhospitable crime. The evidence given against him was to the following effect:—Two gentlemen who had supped with Mr. Hayes, and who retired at the same time to their respective chambers, being alarmed in the night with a noise in his room, and soon hearing groans as of a wounded man, got up in order to discover the cause, and found their landlord, with a dark lantern and a knife in his hand, standing in a state of astonishment and horror over his dying guest, who almost instantly expired.
On this evidence, apparently conclusive, the jury convicted Bradford, and he was executed. But the fate of this man may serve as a lesson to jurymen to be extremely guarded in receiving circumstantial evidence.
The facts attending the above dreadful tragedy were not fully brought to light until the death-bed confession of the real murderer; a time when we must all endeavour to make our peace with God.
Mr. Hayes was a man of considerable property, and greatly respected. He had about him, when his sad destiny led him under the roof of Bradford, a considerable sum of money; and the landlord knowing this, determined to murder and rob him. For this horrid purpose he proceeded with a dark lantern and a carving-knife, intending to cut the throat of his guest while yet sleeping; but what must have been his astonishment and confusion to find his intended victim already murdered, and weltering in his blood!
The wicked and unworthy servant had also determined on the murder of his master; and had committed the bloody deed, and secured his treasure, a moment before the landlord entered for the same purpose.
A SHORT account of the circumstances attending the rebellion of 1715 having been given in this work, some notice will, doubtless, be expected of the second transaction of the same character, and with the same object, which occurred in the year 1745.
It appears that the Pretender having gained the protection of France, and the French also having their own interests to serve, it was determined that a second attempt to restore the Stuarts to the throne of England should be made by the descent of a body of men upon Scotland, where it was conjectured numbers would render assistance, which was eventually to march forward towards London, and expel the reigning monarch. The design was evidently known to the government, from an allusion made to the circumstance by the king in his speech from the throne on the 2nd May, 1745; but the first notice which the British public had of the proceedings of the Pretender, was from a paragraph in the General Evening Post, which said, “The Pretender’s eldest son put to sea July 14th, from France, in an armed ship of sixty guns, provided with a large quantity of warlike stores, together with a frigate of thirty guns and a number of smaller armed vessels, in order to land in Scotland, where he expected to find twenty thousand men in arms, to make good his father’s pretensions to the crown of Great Britain. He was to be joined by five ships of the line from Brest; and four thousand five hundred Spaniards were embarking at Ferrol.”
The government, it appears, was not inactive on this occasion, and proper instructions were given to such of the king’s vessels as were cruising in the Channel, to prevent the approach of any ships which might be supposed to carry the leader of this rebellious attempt.
The young Pretender, followed by about fifty Scotch and Irish adventurers, meanwhile, came incog. through Normandy, and embarked on board a ship of war of eighteen guns, which was joined off Belleisle by the Elizabeth, and other ships. They intended to have sailed northwards, and to have landed in Scotland; but on the 20th they came up with an English fleet of merchant-vessels, under convoy of the Lion man-of-war, of fifty-eight guns, commanded by Captain Brett, who immediately bore down upon the French line-of-battle ship, which he engaged within pistol-shot five hours, being constantly annoyed by the smaller ships of the enemy. The rigging of the Lion was cut to pieces; her mizen-mast, mizentop-mast, main-yard and fore-topsail, were shot away; all her lower masts and topmasts shot through in many places, so that she lay muzzled on the sea, and could do nothing with her sails. Thus situated, the French ships sheered off, and the Lion could make no effort to follow them. Captain Brett had forty-five men killed: himself, all his lieutenants; the master, several midshipmen, and one hundred and seven foremast-men, wounded. His principal antagonist, the Elizabeth, with difficulty got back to Brest, quite disabled, and had sixty-four men killed, one hundred and thirty-nine dangerously wounded, and a number more slightly injured. She had on board four hundred thousand pounds sterling, and arms and ammunition for several thousand men.
The friends of the Stuart cause in Scotland were in the mean time as active as their opponents, and committed many irregularities for the purpose of supplying their ranks with a sufficient number of soldiers; and being thus prepared, anxiously expected the arrival of their prince. The latter found means to join his supporters by a small vessel, in which he quitted the French coast; and eluding the vigilance of the English cruisers, he landed on the Isle of Skye, opposite to Lochaber, in the county of Inverness. After a lapse of about three weeks, he appeared at the head of a body of two thousand men, under a standard bearing the motto “Tandem triumphans”—“At length triumphant,” and marching his army to Fort William, he there published a manifesto, signed by his father at Rome, containing many promises to those who would adhere to his cause, amongst which were undertakings that he would procure the dissolution of the union of the two kingdoms, and the payment of the national debt. The country people flocked in great numbers to his standard; and the mob, by which he was followed, soon assumed the appearance, in numbers at least, of an army. Their first attempt in arms, in opposition to two companies of foot, of the St. Clair and Murray’s regiments, was successful, the soldiers being far inferior in numbers; and the rebels immediately marched upon Perth, and having taken possession of that place, the Pretender issued his orders for all persons who held public money to pay it into the hands of his secretary. Dundee and Dumblain were successively seized by his soldiers; and at length, on the 14th September, the Pretender proceeded through the Royal Park and took possession of Holyrood House.
The money in the bank of Edinburgh, and the records in the public offices, were now removed to the castle for security, and the gates of the city were kept fast during the whole day; but five hundred of the rebels, having concealed themselves in the suburbs, took an opportunity, at four o’clock in the morning, to follow a coach which was going in, and seizing the gate called the Netherbow, they maintained their ground, while the main body reached the centre of the city, and formed themselves in the Parliament Close.
Thus possessed of the Scottish capital, they seized two thousand stand of arms, and on the following day marched to oppose the royal army under the command of General Cope. The two armies coming in sight of each other, near Preston Pans, on the evening of the 20th, Colonel Gardiner earnestly recommended it to the general to attack his opponents during the night; but, deaf to this advice, he kept the men under arms till morning, though they were already greatly harassed. At five in the morning, the rebels made a furious attack on the royal army, which was thrown into unspeakable confusion by two regiments of dragoons falling back on the foot. Colonel Gardiner, with five hundred foot, behaved with uncommon valour, and covered the retreat of those who fled; but the colonel receiving a mortal wound, the rebels made prisoners of nearly all the rest of the king’s troops.
The loss thus sustained by the royal army, was three hundred killed, four hundred and fifty wounded, five hundred and twenty taken prisoners,—total one thousand two hundred and seventy, while the rebels only lost fifty men in all. Flushed with this partial victory, the rebels returned to Edinburgh to make an attack upon the castle, and attempted to throw up an entrenchment upon the hill; but notice having been given to the inhabitants to retire, the battery was attacked by the guns from above, the works destroyed, and thirty of the assailants killed, besides three of the inhabitants who rashly ventured near the spot. The rebel army remained during seven weeks in this city; and many noblemen and gentlemen with their followers having joined it, a force of more than ten thousand men was at length mustered. In November they marched upon Carlisle, and after some resistance had been shown, it was surrendered, and the insurgents then forced their way to Manchester, where a regiment, chiefly formed of Roman Catholics, was raised.
But now such decisive measures were taken as put an end very shortly to the insurrection. The Duke of Cumberland was at this time in Flanders, with the army, but being sent for thence, he soon arrived to take the command of the royal forces. About the time he reached London, the rebels had advanced as far as Derby; but his royal highness lost no time in travelling into Staffordshire, where he collected all the force he could, to stop their farther inroads into the kingdom.
Liverpool had not been behind London in spirit and loyalty. The inhabitants contributed largely in assisting the royal army, at this inclement season, with warm clothing, and raised several companies of armed men, which were called the Royal Liverpool Blues. Some of the advanced parties of rebels having appeared in sight of the town, every preparation was made to resist them; but, finding at length that the Pretender bent his march by another route for Manchester, the Liverpool Blues marched in order to destroy the bridges, and thereby impede their progress.
Notwithstanding these impediments, the rebels crossed the Mersey at different fords, through which the Pretender waded breast-high in water. Their numbers could not be accurately ascertained, their march being straggling and unequal, but about nine thousand appeared to be the aggregate. Their train of artillery consisted of sixteen field-pieces of three and four pound shot, two carriages of gunpowder, a number of covered waggons, and about one hundred horses, laden with ammunition. Their van-guard consisted of about two hundred cavalry, badly mounted, the horses appearing poor and jaded. The Pretender himself constantly marched on foot, at the head of two regiments, one of which was appropriated as his body guard. His dress was a light plaid, belted about with a sash of blue silk: he wore a grey wig, with a blue bonnet, and a white rose in it, and appeared very dejected at this time. His followers were ordinary, except the two regiments mentioned, which appeared to have been picked out of the whole. The arms of the others were very indifferent. Some had guns, others only pistols, the remainder broad-swords and targets. In order to deceive the Duke of Cumberland, all sorts of reports as to the future route of the rebels were sent abroad, but the King’s troops were concentrated at Northampton, a spot well suited for the purpose, as it was the road which it was most probable would be taken, in the event of the Pretender advancing upon London, which was known to be his real intention. Meanwhile the rebels appeared unconscious of the danger they were bringing upon themselves by delay, and they remained during a considerable time endeavouring to raise recruits. They at length, however, set forward on their march southwards, but they had not advanced more than a mile before they halted, held a consultation, wheeled round, and retraced their steps to Derby. Having there seized all the plunder they could lay their hands upon, they passed on, seeking to regain Scotland, where they had learned that their friends had been joined by some French troops. The Duke of Cumberland, in the mean time, being aware of their flight, followed them with all speed, and learning that they had been compelled to halt at Preston, from excessive weariness, he redoubled his efforts to come up with them. By forced marches, travelling through ice and snow, he succeeded in reaching Preston in three days, but he found that his game had retired about four hours before him. The Pretender soon learned that the excesses, of which his men had been guilty in their southward march, were not to go unpunished, and wherever he went he found himself opposed and harassed by the enraged country people, who lost no opportunity of annoying him in his retreat, and of seizing the stragglers from his army. At length, however, after repeated forced marches the Duke of Cumberland came up with his antagonists at Lowther Hall; and the latter dreading his approach, immediately threw themselves into the village of Clifton, three miles from Penryth. They were there attacked most vigorously and successfully by the dragoons, who had dismounted, and in about an hour’s time they were driven away from the post which they occupied. They retreated forthwith to Carlisle, which was still in their possession; but the continued advance of the royal troops induced them again to retire, leaving only a garrison to oppose the entry of the Duke into that city. The besieged fired upon their assailants with great fury, but did little execution; and at length a battery having been raised against them, they sent out a flag of truce, and surrendered upon terms that they should not be put to the sword, but reserved for the king’s pleasure, and thus Carlisle was once more taken possession of by the troops of his majesty.